


The Sun Still Rises

by Bionic (Vexza)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 10:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8664925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexza/pseuds/Bionic
Summary: It's hard to stay positive in the face of such overwhelming negativity.





	

The Burnses weren't watching the local news, but honestly, Boulder would rather be suffering through the inanity of Huxley's programs than watching this trainwreck. Who knew current events could be so universally depressing? And the people- they were the worst part. Everything that came out of their mouths that wasn't a straight up fact was heavily editorialized drivel. Boulder wasn't sure how any of this constituted as 'news'.

  
The longer he watched, the more agitated he became. Even the Burnses, sitting on the couch beside him, started to annoy him; their comments were in direct opposition to the comments onscreen, but he found himself tiring of their conflict with the TV reporters quite rapidly.

  
Eventually (and quicker than he would have expected of himself), he could take no more, and excused himself from the small gathering with some story about a project he needed to work on. The Burnses bid him good night and resumed their argument, oblivious.

  
He quietly took the elevator down into the bunker. Without bothering to turn on any of the lights, he made his way into the partly hidden area that could be loosely described as the bots' living quarters. With some difficulty, he made his passing as silent as possible; he thought Heatwave and Chase might be recharging down the hall.

  
Against one wall of the larger room were their stasis pods, and on the wall perpendicular to it was a table covered in various tools and medical implements. Boulder picked one at random and began to fiddle with it.

  
As he stood in the semi-darkness, mindlessly disassembling the- what even is this? - Boulder fought the rising tide of self-loathing as he realized he was being silly. So what if some human was mean to another human? That had nothing to do with him; he had no reason to get so defensive. And yet, thinking of the things he had heard just in the last twenty minutes on the news, he couldn't help but feel sad.

  
_It matters a little bit._ He thought, finding a rag to wipe down the half-built tool with. The rhetoric of the human on TV was expressed by a larger group than just him, he knew. It was a symptom of a larger problem. That, he expected, was what was really bothering him, but he couldn't help but feel like he was being- what was the human expression?- thin-skinned.

  
Most of the people on Griffin Rock were kind, and he had certainly never seen anyone go out of their way to hurt another person. He knew it was unfair of him to place humans on a pedestal; all sentient creatures were capable of great harm, after all, and to assume all humans were lovely and non-threatening was foolish and debasing. Even so, he had never really been confronted with the worst humanity had to offer- aside from the condescending and, frankly, silly antics of Dr. Morrocco- and he hadn't been expecting to feel so... disappointed.

  
He sighed. Earth was a lovely place, full of lovely things. Life here could be so wonderful- why did people not see that? Why did they want to make life so thoroughly unenjoyable for others? Why was Boulder letting them bring him down? He focused harder on his task, losing time in the mindless cycle of it.

  
Someone turned the lights on.

  
Boulder shuttered his optics instinctively, and cycled them down. He winced as the brightness in the room went from extreme to manageable levels. He carefully placed whatever tool he had been working on on the bench, and turned towards the door.

  
Heatwave stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame and also blinking in the light. He looked a bit groggy. "Boulder?" He asked. "What are you doing?"

  
Boulder glanced over his shoulder at the row of equipment he had been fiddling aimlessly with. "I was just, um. I was just cleaning some of this stuff."

  
Heatwave eyed him suspiciously. "In the dark?"

  
Boulder let his gaze travel innocuously over the walls, Heatwave, the overhead lights... "Yeah. I was just, uh. I was just thinking, you know."

  
The look Heatwave gave him was not impressed; Boulder, after all, was acting like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Is something wrong, Boulder?"

  
Boulder stood stock-still for half a beat before he let his arms fall loosely at his sides, another sigh escaping him. "No. I mean, I just got upset by something on TV..."

  
"You and Blades." Heatwave growled. "I'll throw that thing off a bridge, I swear to Primus."

  
At a loss for words, Boulder merely nodded. Maybe that would be for the best. All three of them (but Heatwave especially) had been woken up by Blades countless times, his paranoia fed by Earth's sensational and, often, fictional TV programs. It seemed now that it wasn't really good for any of them.

  
Heatwave stared at him from across the room, clearly mulling over his next words. "Listen." He began, rather tentatively. "You can't let that stuff get to you. You'll just beat yourself up over something that's got nothing to do with you."

  
Boulder rolled his shoulders, trying in vain to relieve some of the tension in them. "I know." He replied, finally crossing the room to make their conversation less awkward. Heatwave made room so they could stand together in the doorway. "I just don't get how people can treat other people like that. I don't get it."

  
They were silent for a moment, Heatwave scrutinizing Boulder's twisted up, troubled expression.

  
"It's just..." Boulder continued, spurred into explanation by Heatwave's silence. "It's frustrating, I guess. People don't need to be like that. I guess what annoys me the most is that- it's that people would go out of their way to make the world a worse place just because they feel like it. Just because they can. I just don't understand, you know?"

  
"You know how it is." Heatwave shrugged. "Some people just want to watch the world burn, as they say."

  
"Yeah." Boulder agreed, dejected, and Heatwave winced internally at being so callous in his reply.

  
"But, hey, chin up." He said quickly. Boulder met his optics questioningly. "The world's not so terrible. I mean, uh, we have people like you in it, after all, so it can't be all bad."

  
Boulder beamed up at him then, bright and open. Heatwave glanced away, uncomfortable.

  
"Aw, Heatwave." Boulder teased. "That's so sweet."

  
"Yeah, yeah." He replied, gruff as ever. "Now seriously, what are you doing down here? Don't you have love and joy and rainbows to spread to the children of the world or something?"

  
Grinning, Boulder leaned towards him. Heatwave dipped his head the little bit necessary to meet him halfway for a kiss (which was warm and sweet, and definitely made getting woken up in the middle of the night worth it).

  
"I feel better already." Boulder said smilingly when they parted after just a few moments.

  
Heatwave mumbled something unintelligible, then made a motion with his hands. "Good. Now shoo. Go make the sun rise or something. That is what you do, right?"

  
Boulder's soft laughter was his only reply.


End file.
